Encore
by Synoir
Summary: Sirius Black is back from the veil with more baggage than he would ever imagine, and Hermione is struggling with handling her life. - "I really want you to take care of yourself." "Why?" she asked. Sirius didn't know the answer so clearly until he spoke it. "Because you need someone to want it." [For Mature Readers][Sirimione][WIP]
1. Chapter 1

**1**

Time.

You could never take it back. Not even with a time-turner, no. What you lived was there, forever; not erasable nor changeable.

What you loved remained with you.

Sirius tried not to think of himself as a waste. But what else a man that was wasted could be? Trashed, forgotten, left to rot, fallen.

 _You are much more than that_ , a voice whispered. He'd say it was _her_ voice. But she was dead, so it couldn't be her.

 _He can hear us again, Lily, maybe it's best if you-_

He closed his eyes, trying not to hear the voices ringing in his ear. Why James? Why would his mind torment him like this?

 _Good! If he can hear me maybe he can pull himself together, too! Sirius please, listen…_

The voices faded. They always faded eventually.

Ever since he came back from the veil he heard them. At first, he didn't understand why he was hearing Remus too until Harry told him he had died. Antonin Dolohov had killed him, and Remus left a baby boy behind. Just like James did.

Why did they remain dead while he came back?

He had nothing to live for, not anymore. There was no war to fight, no godson to raise. Harry had raised himself well enough without adult supervision. Sure, he had a thing about pleasing people that cared about him, enough to live his life according to their expectations, but he was a grown man now, the victor of a war, even.

A war Sirius had missed.

What a useless fucking life.

 _I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. Sirius, my friend. Sirius… Remember we were friends. I'm sorry Sirius._

"Fuck! Shut up Wormtail, you _rat!_ " Sirius shouted into the empty room, anger filling him. Of course, he heard Pettigrew too. He heard everyone that he once loved. He was losing his mind, and not so slowly either.

What was the point of coming back from the dead if he lost his wits as a payment?

It wasn't worth it. _He_ wasn't worth it.

"Sirius, you there?"

Feet came and stopped by the door. Sirius looked towards the newcomer. Harry; taller, older, even with a two-day old stubble; was standing before him.

"Yeah, what's up?" he asked.

The boy, the man, leaned on the wall.

"I heard your voice, you okay?" Harry asked. Sirius could see that he was worried. He tried to hide it, of course, but Harry was never so good at that.

Sirius nodded. He, at least, was a better actor and could grin like he meant it.

"You know I'm a little off the bat," he said with cheer. Harry, thankfully, laughed.

"Right. Well, get ready. We have a guest."

Sirius hoped it wasn't the Weasleys. The worst part of coming back was trying to make nice with Molly Weasley. The woman offended him just by existing.

"Yeah? Who?" he asked, combing his hair with his hand. At least he had showered that day.

"Hermione," Harry said and entered the room, closing the door. "She is going to stay here for a while if that's okay with you."

Sirius lifted a single eyebrow at Harry.

"Why?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Harry looked down at his feet, checked to make sure he closed the door. Sirius smiled at his godson's awkwardness.

"They broke up, apparently," he said keeping his voice down.

Sirius snorted. "It was going to happen eventually."

Harry looked at him with furrowed brows. "Why do you say that?"

"Sometimes it works, being friends with someone before you have a relationship, Harry," he explained. "But sometimes, there is just too much past. Especially those two, they've been through a lot."

Harry hummed, considering his words. "Maybe," he said avoiding to make a comment. "I'm just… They are my friends, both of them. It's not… I don't like seeing them unhappy."

Sirius sighed and took out the t-shirt he was wearing. It was wrinkled, and he was sure Hermione would have enough chances to see him in his household attire the following days, just maybe not on the first day. He opened his wardrobe, that didn't have many options to begin with, and picked out a black shirt. He pulled it over himself.

"They wouldn't break up if they were happy," he reasoned.

 _That's surprisingly insightful, Pads,_ Moony's voice filled his head, making Sirius' hands shake as he fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. He shut his eyes, stopping all movement. _When did you get so wise?_

"You are right," Harry said, unaware of his distress. "Anyway, she is downstairs and I've picked some Lo Mein. Come down when you are ready?"

"Sure thing," Sirius nodded and waited for Harry to shut the door behind him to allow himself to sit down on his bed. His childhood bed. Why did Harry kept this wretched house?

 _It reminded him of you,_ Lily's voice told him.

Sirius cried.

* * *

When he finally went down the stairs to the kitchen, Sirius was smiling. He had put it on, _control,_ he told his mind. Control your expressions, and eventually control your feelings.

He stopped by the kitchen door and watched Hermione pour the takeaway food to plates while Harry screwed a cork to the wine bottle. They didn't notice him.

"So at the end, we didn't even have anything left to argue over," Hermione was saying. "It was pointless, you know."

"Important thing," Harry said as the wine bottle opened with a _plop_ , "is that you are okay, Hermione. You and Ron both."

Hermione sighed and seeing that there were things she wanted to say Sirius took a step back instead of entering the kitchen. He leaned on the wall and waited as an involuntary listener.

"I'm okay, I think," he heard her say. "I love him, you know. But not like… Not like _love_ love. We'll need to re-learn how to be friends."

Harry laughed, and Sirius thought it must be encouraging for Hermione to hear it.

"Like you've got another choice," Harry said cheerfully. Sirius thought this was as good a time as any to enter the kitchen.

"Hullo," he announced himself and was pleased to see the little witch smiling, ghost of a silent laughter etched on her face.

"Sirius!"

She ran and hugged him, and Sirius wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off the ground.

"Good to see you, too, Hermione."

Hermione laughed when he allowed her to free herself from him and sat on one of the chairs.

Sirius followed along, pulling one of the plates towards himself. It was as if life was normal.

 _It is normal, Pads. If you allow it._

It didn't feel like it. It felt as if everything was a dream and he a watcher, a listener. Someone that can observe but never touch anything, someone temporary. Maybe it was better that way.

It didn't even make him sad anymore. He took the chopsticks and started to eat his food.

"How's work?" he asked the witch.

"It's great. Percy and I are working on making sure werewolf children can have access to Wolfbane for free, and that they can't be denied education because of their condition." She took a sip of her wine, without eating a bite first. Sirius frowned. Had she eaten anything, he wondered. "It's challenging because they do create a certain amount of danger, and unfortunately they are not that low in numbers since the war."

Sirius nodded his understanding. He looked at Harry.

"You are helping her, right?" he asked.

"She doesn't need my help," Harry said. "She is taking the Ministry by storm."

Sirius' frown deepened and he checked Hermione. She was playing with her food. Not eating. She took another sip of her wine. Sirius turned back to Harry.

"You are kidding right, kiddo?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, confused.

"You are Harry fucking Potter. The-Boy-Who-Killed-the-Snakeman and the Hero of the Wizarding World. Your word means everything."

"No, no. He works for the Ministry," Hermione interrupted. "He can't use his influence for politics. It's not ethical."

Harry shrugged, his cheeks pink. At least the boy was ashamed to admit it.

"Fuck it," Sirius said. He hated that Harry got himself a job that made him work for the system that used him and tossed him aside. Sure, Kingsley was a friend, but Ministers changed.

"What can I do?" Harry said. "Everyone knows I support the bill, I just can't get up and make a statement about it, that's all."

"Well, I'm sure it's worth it then," Sirius said bitterly. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Harry frowning. He wondered who had put being an Auror into Harry's mind at the first place.

"Don't be unfair, Sirius," Hermione said, her tone clipped. Sirius exhaled and leaned back, balancing his chair on two legs.

"Look, I'm not saying Harry has done anything wrong," he said. "I just think some things matter more than others, you can't deny that. And those children? I think they matter more than regulations, and rules, or whatever ethical dilemma the situation creates."

"I could lose my job," Harry said.

Sirius looked at Harry. "So what?"

That made Harry stop. He looked at Sirius for several seconds, unblinking. That boy had a mean stare. He didn't seem angry though, or so Sirius hoped.

"You don't like that I'm an Auror." The statement was there, and Sirius couldn't deny it. He just shrugged. Maybe it was selfish of him to dislike his godson's choice of a career. He couldn't help it. He had liked Aurors good enough. There was a time he considered it himself. Until… Well, until.

"It's not about that," he amended, turning his focus back on his plate and letting his chair fall back on four legs.

"What is it about then?" Harry asked.

"Exactly what I said, some things matter more."

Sirius looked at Hermione who was still playing with her food. She raised her head and looked at him, her mouth in a thin line. She wasn't approving. Why?

"You don't agree?" he asked her.

Hermione bit her lip. "Being an Auror is Harry's dream. You can't ask him to sac-"

"I arrested a woman for using the Killing Curse on a rat," Harry cut her sentence. Sirius turned to him and knew Hermione had done the same.

"What?" she asked.

"She thought it was _humane_ ," Harry said, his chopsticks playing with his food. "She cried. She is seventy years old and currently in Azkaban. For killing a rat that was eating the homemade cheese she makes."

Sirius shivered and closed his eyes. That didn't sound fair. When he opened his eyes Harry was looking at him, almost pleading.

"Do you really think… Do you think it'd be okay if I quit?"

He looked just like a little boy, then. The boy that came to him for advice. It was a reminder of how much he had missed. He would have to change that, wouldn't he?

"I think, Harry, this is your life," he said carefully, realising that Harry depended on him in that moment. Sirius clung to that, that small window of a moment that he was needed. He needed to mind what he was saying. _Control_. "I don't think you should do this job because other people expect you to, or because you wanted to be an Auror when you were fifteen. But you shouldn't quit it because of what I think either."

There. That was honest _and_ fair.

Harry nodded and drank his wine, seeming thoughtful. Hermione started to laugh bitterly.

"What a mess," she said. Sirius looked at her wondering what she meant. "Look at us," Hermione clarified for him. "We can win a war against impossible odds, apparently, but when it comes to managing a life…"

 _She still didn't eat,_ Lily's voice reminded him. _Make her eat, Sirius._

Sirius nodded at the voice.

"A breakup doesn't mean you can't manage your life," Harry said. It was almost as if James spoke, in one of his rare moments of wisdom that came out when his friends needed him. Sirius had been on the receiving end of this tone countless times. All of them had.

"Well, I beg to differ," Hermione said. "I just… I can't seem to make _any_ profound decision when it comes to my life. People don't like me, Harry. They tolerate me because I have an Order of Merlin, but…"

Her curls danced when she shook her head.

"That's because people are idiots," Sirius said, he grinned at her then, he thought she needed someone to cheer her up. Sirius could do that, or try at least. He wondered if he still had it in him to cheer people up. "And they suddenly notice it themselves when they are around you."

Harry laughed, and Hermione grinned back at him. _That_ was a good look.

"Why, Sirius, I didn't know you thought so highly of me," she returned cheekily.

Sirius grin grew.

"Oh, I think you are an obnoxious little swot who thinks she knows everything. But hey, you probably do, and I like you just fine."

"She really does," Harry agreed with him.

Hermione blushed and took another sip of her wine.

"Eat up," Sirius said.

"I'm not really hungry," she confessed. Sirius made a disapproving sound.

"Do I seem like I care?" he asked. "Eat, or I'll ward the library for a week."

 _Nice one, Sirius,_ said James.

"Stakes has risen, Hermione," Harry said. "You better listen to him."

"What makes you think that _your_ wards can keep me out, Black?"

Sirius raised a challenging eyebrow at her. "Your answer is hidden inside the question, kitten," he said. He recognised the tone he was using from somewhere. He just couldn't remember. _Oh, I bet I do,_ Remus' voice told him. He ignored it. "Do you really wanna try the limits of my wards when in this house?"

"They are sort of keyed to him," Harry mock whispered, pretending to tip Hermione on what was going on. "Blood magic and all."

"Didn't you inherit the place?" She turned to Harry. Harry just shrugged.

"Pretty sure that's irrelevant."

"It is," Sirius said.

It was.

Hermione sighed and took a piece from her plate, making a show of eating.

"Happy?" she asked.

"Yes," Sirius smiled at her. "Very. Thank you, Hermione."

Her face softened and she smiled at him, taking another bite.

 _Well done!_

Lily sounded cheerful, at least.

"So," Harry said. Sirius stopped staring at Hermione eating and turned to him. "Does Sirius still count as an adult, or is he technically a newborn since it's his second time living?"

* * *

 _ **Welcome to another Sirimione.**_

 _ **Many thanks to Kreeblimsabs who is alpha-reading this story.**_

 _ **I am not quite sure how long this story will be, although I do have a fairly good idea of what is going to happen, I don't plan to run to the finish line. I've already written several chapters for it.**_

 _ **So get comfy, play some good music, and enjoy the ride. Don't forget to leave a review while you hang around!**_

 _ **Love,**_

 _ **Synoir**_


	2. Chapter 2

**2**

Sirius slid out of the kitchen after he finished eating.

Hermione had asked him if he was okay with her staying there like he could deny her that. _This is Harry's place,_ he had said laughing. _If he is okay with two poor sods, who am I to deny you the pleasure of my company?_ She had seemed worried, then relieved, then worried again. The girl worried too much for her own good.

He walked out the porch to the small garden. He liked it here. Whatever they did, they had changed the atrocious garden that Walburga had kept -and that Kreacher hadn't. It had flowers that Sirius didn't know the name of, he never had been much of a herbologist, and some even bloomed in the night. There were lights flooding around, a gift from one of Harry's friends.

 _Luna_.

Lily's voice sounded like she was smiling, if the dead could smile.

 _I can_ , the same voice said in answer to his thoughts.

"Damn it," he said, sitting down. He didn't think he could keep himself up for much longer.

 _Is it that horrible to hear us,_ the voice asked. She sounded sad.

"You are dead," Sirius said, whispering under his breath. Although the voices always knew what he thought and he didn't need to talk, it felt better when he did. It somehow made him feel less crazy. Maybe it was because he had gotten used to talking to himself in Azkaban. The images and voices of his friends had followed him there too, just like now.

 _I'm not a bad memory, Padfoot,_ she said. _I am me, Lily. Your friend, sister..._

"Dead."

There was silence following that. Silence was rare. Usually, there'd be a sound filling his mind: the sound of the veil. But at that tiny moment, he heard nothing.

 _But here,_ the voice said only after. It was such a faint whisper he wasn't sure if he imagined it.

He never was sure if he imagined it.

 _We are here, Sirius._

* * *

Sirius didn't know how long he stayed there, looking at his feet. The worst was not knowing if he finally went insane or if they really were there. He didn't hear the presence of another person in the garden until he heard the sound of glass hitting glass.

He raised his head and looked up. There, Hermione stood. She had a bottle of Ogden's in one hand and on the other, she had balanced two glasses. She was hitting them gently to each other, creating a cringy sound that made him both happy and annoyed. She didn't stop even when he looked at her.

He grinned.

"Yes?" he asked, faking a drawl.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked, stopping the awful sound she made.

"Well, witch," he said. "You and Mr Ogden, always welcome in my book."

She smiled at him. She looked almost embarrassed then, making him smile genuinely in return. Sirius wondered why knowing that she was welcome made her shy. Wasn't she aware how many people adored her?

 _Not many tell her that, you know,_ Lily said.

 _They are all boys!_ It was a new voice, this time. Sirius would snort in agreement if his heart wasn't beating so fast. It was Nymphadora.

 _Don't call me that!_

"I didn't!"

"What?" Hermione asked, and Sirius cursed at the ghosts that decided to haunt him in his head. He could almost feel them pouting at his thoughts. They were his thoughts, though, and he didn't appreciate it being so open for them. Even if they were only accessible for the dead.

"Nothing, love," he said shaking his head. He scooted over to open up space for her. She sat down and placed the glasses next to their feet. He took the bottle from her hands, and opened it.

He could feel Hermione's gaze on him, he could see her frown without looking.

"You know that I know you are lying, right?" she asked.

He shrugged and finished serving their drinks.

"Where is Harry?"

Hermione snorted but didn't point out his abysmal talents in changing the topic.

"I sent him over to Ron," she said. Then stopped. "Well, I think Harry wanted to check on him. So I told him to go."

Sirius nodded. "So you sent your best friend to your ex," he said. "Who is gonna look after you?"

"Eh," Hermione shrugged sipping her firewhiskey. "You'll do."

Sirius' eyebrows rose and he started to laugh. She had said so nonchalantly, it was perfect. She joined his laughters after eyeing him, and before long they were trying to catch their breaths. It was absolute nonsense, of course. There wasn't really anything to laugh at.

It still felt good.

Then there was silence. It was a beautiful sort of silence, sipping firewhiskey and enjoying the dimly lit garden.

"The lights are beautiful, aren't they?" Hermione said. "Luna brought them from… Morocco, I think. They are supposed to protect the flowers from wilting. Or that's what I gathered from what she said. _To preserve life,_ she said and I'm guessing she didn't talk about, well, immortality."

"From what I know of that one, she could be saying just that," Sirius said.

Hermione laughed. "Can you imagine, if only Voldemort went to Morocco to get some lights."

"I wonder if it'd be easier or harder to kill him then?" Sirius thought aloud. "Would we ever figure it out?"

"So Harry told you?" Hermione said with a smile.

"About the Hunt? Yeah," Sirius said, thinking the conversation he had with Harry. About the hunt, the horcruxes, and Regulus... He frowned, remembering the guilt he felt when he heard of what was now named the Second Wizarding War.

He heard Regulus sometimes too, now. In a voice that he barely recognised, more mature than it had been when he was fifteen. Was it the voice he had when he died?

"Yeah, he did," he answered Hermione, chasing the thoughts away and focusing on the now. Focusing on her instead of himself.

"I'm glad," Hermione said. "I'm glad someone knows, other than us."

Sirius understood that. The three of them had been in the thick of it without anyone to complain or run to. People who had lived that alongside you wouldn't be able to give a fresh perspective, after all. He remembered talking about Azkaban with Remus, someone who had never been there, someone who couldn't possibly understand it. Sometimes it was better that way.

"I'm glad too," Sirius said. And not knowing what made him say so, he added: "To be here."

The firewhiskey looked good just then. He took a large sip.

"I'm glad you are here too," Hermione said.

"So," Sirius said, making it clear that once again he was changing the subject. He glanced at her. "Why did you guys break up?"

Hermione laughed, but her face was strained. Sirius could almost cut the guilt that was in the air, surrounding her.

"It was me."

It was such a soft declaration Sirius' heart broke. "It's always someone," he said with a shrug, hoping she would stop blaming herself. "But it was always the two of you in that relationship, you know. Even when it ended. There is no distribution of guilt."

Hermione snorted. "He tried, I didn't. There is not much debate over whose fault it was."

"You? Not try?" Sirius laughed. "I doubt that. Ron will be fine. You guys will be alright."

"What if I destroyed our friendship?" she asked. He looked at her and saw her glistening eyes. He felt his chest constrict, saddened by her fear of losing a friend, more than a lover.

"You did the right thing if your friendship is worth protecting," he tried to reason clumsily. "Imagine breaking up five years from now, bitter from a forced relationship. Carrying so much load on your shoulders, love already turned to despise… It would not be good, or fixable, Hermione."

 _I think that visit to the veil matured you, Pads,_ he heard James' mocking voice.

Sirius finished his drink to swallow a response that would come too naturally for someone had lost his friend twenty years ago. When would he stop being the same Sirius, who was the brother of James Potter?

 _Never,_ exclaimed James, arrogant and so sure of himself.

"You are right, of _course_ , you are right." Hermione's voice was broken, shaking. Sirius wanted to just rip the sadness out of her, with force if needed. He wanted to destroy it. "And that's why I ended it. I didn't love him like I was supposed to. Didn't want him like I was supposed to."

And she too, finished her drink. Sirius sighed and filled their glasses again. He raised his glass to toast.

"To breakups, may they bring a better future."

Hermione laughed, sniffing and with a smile tugging at the corners of her tiny lips and with tears in her eyes, she raised her glass as well.

"To breakups."

* * *

By the time Sirius and Hermione called it a night, the sun was rising. They had talked all night, draining the bottle as they did so.

Hermione had pouted when she noticed the drink was gone, and they got up. Sirius had pulled her from where she sat down, her shoes were already discarded and he had helped her find her balance with her naked feet on the green grass. They had leaned on each other to keep themselves straight. Before they had started to walk, Hermione had held onto his shirt's sleeves, forcing him to stay put. She had wanted to see the sunrise.

"I am rarely out when the sun is rising," Hermione had said. "It's beautiful."

And it was beautiful. Even though they hadn't really seen the sun, it was hidden behind the walls of the garden, and probably, behind the London landscape as well. But its presence still had sneaked between the darkness, alighting the garden, dimming the floating lights.

Sirius had looked at Hermione, smiling down at her face. "Yep," he had said. "Fucking gorgeous, isn't it?"

Hermione had laughed and agreed, even cursing herself with appreciation.

They had laughed again because it was always funny to hear Hermione Granger say _damn_.

Climbing the stairs had been even more laughter. He had tripped over the carpet, and Hermione, the hero that she was, had held onto his shirt pulling him towards her, causing them both to hit the railings. Laughing and grabbing at it lest they fell, they had clung to each other. Falling would have been disastrous because they had been glued together if one fell the other would have followed.

It had been Sirius that gained his composure first, so he had helped her with hers. He had held onto her waist, she held on to his arm. Together they had found their way.

He had even walked her to her room, or the room he had guessed was hers. She hadn't commented if it had been the wrong one.

"Thanks," she had giggled. "Gosh, I'm so drunk."

Sirius had laughed. "Kitten, I see two of you. Which isn't such a bad sight, I must admit. But I better go, lest I do something stupid."

Hermione had snorted.

"Pfft…" she had said waving her hand between them. "Stupid is good." Then she had leaned onto the door and opened it with her weight. "We should do stupid again."

Sirius had agreed with a nod.

"Good night, little witch."

Hermione's eyes had been brighter than the rising sun, then.

"Good night, Sirius."

Sirius was still standing there long after the door had closed. He had put his forehead on her door, trying to make sense of what he was feeling. Trying to stop nausea creeping in his stomach, trying to make the world stop turning so noticeably, trying to make sense of his anxiously beating heart. Trying to make sense of it all.

He had dragged himself to his room, not knowing when. Maybe it had been a minute that he stood there, maybe an hour.

Perhaps a day.

Now, lying in his cold bed, he didn't know what had happened. He didn't remember what they had talked all night, what remained were only glimpses of her.

He wrapped himself within the bed cover. He thought there were the whispers of a lullaby, just as he fell asleep, that he had heard so long ago. Maybe it was him dreaming. Maybe it was the dead.

Maybe, it was Hermione.

* * *

 **Many thanks to Kreeblim Sabs for being amazing and reading this story before everyone!**

 **Synoir**


	3. Chapter 3

**3**

After a week Sirius, Hermione and Harry had developed a routine. Noticing Hermione hadn't been eating well, Sirius woke up every morning to prepare breakfast for all of them. They ate together, mostly in silence, and then the younger members of the household left for work.

And Sirius went out.

He had tried going to the Diagon Alley, at first. He was a free man now, exonerated, he thought he'd miss the places he visited as a young man. But the people, it seemed, still remembered the times that Sirius Black had been the number one boogeyman, or heard that he had returned from death, and even though they were convinced he had been innocent, they were still afraid of him.

They stared and Sirius hated it.

Only children seemed to be unaware of who he was. Their stares were never different than the way they stared at other strangers and it was oddly comforting. He made faces at them, winking and sticking his tongue out. To that they either frowned like Sirius was the child and they didn't approve of his juvenile behaviour or they giggled at his silliness.

It wasn't the healthiest way to socialise.

Naturally, he stopped going to the Diagon Alley and instead he spent his days in Muggle London. It was crowded, and no one knew anyone. People walked past each other, not looking even when they bumped their shoulders.

Among them, he was just someone else, a stranger. He cherished that title now.

He would hold the door for old ladies as they entered a store and they would smile at him. He had been much more handsome than now, once, but when he made eye contact with women they still looked at him with appreciation. When he went to pubs people talked about the funny Muggle game called football, politics and their daily life. Yes, the whiskey was much duller without the burnt of the firewhiskey, and the service much slower due to lack of magic but he still loved the mundane chatter of these mundane people.

People his age that didn't live through a civil war talked to him about their heartaches, how their favourite team has lost, what were their wives and children doing, how annoying their colleagues were or how pretty the woman sitting at _that_ table.

He would watch the games on the television above the bar, a Muggle invention that excited and annoyed him at the same time. Football, if you asked Sirius, was not nearly as exciting as Quidditch. There was no chance of any athlete to fall from a broom and crack a skull, there were way too many players, way too little number of balls involved, and it seemed every little thing was accepted as foul.

It made no sense.

Still, the excitement of the people in the bar affected him a great deal and he found himself often cheering with them, jumping up when the team he had supported for the day scored, feeling youthful once again.

There were always girls, of course. _Women_ , he often needed to correct in his mind. He had missed the period in his life that he would transition from calling the members of the opposite sex women instead of girls. It wasn't easy, he had noticed, to acquire a more age-appropriate behaviour and vocabulary. Although, he supposed the youth of this era wouldn't think he was talking like a peer, either.

He just didn't fit anymore.

Not with wizards, not with Muggles, not with the young nor the old. It was easier to pick the group you fit the least. At least among these strangers, he accepted himself being the outsider. It was better than being one in your own home.

So he latched on to the temporary relationships with people that never knew who he was.

Back in the pub, "What?" asked the girl that he was talking.

They had just met. She was pretty, wearing a tight little dress and heels. Her body was turned towards him, leaning a little. He smirked at her, this was a game he could play. He'd use the opportunity to get closer to her, to say his name once again, their faces would be close enough to make her think of kissing him.

"It's Sirius," he said. He didn't touch her at all. He leaned back, not wanting to disturb her with his proximity. One step forward, one step back. "Like the star."

"I didn't know there was a star with that name," she said. "Is that your real name?"

He nodded.

"Yep, my one true name."

"I'm pretty sure you're lying," she said laughing.

Sirius laughed too. He didn't understand why it was so hard to accept that this could be his name, but, well… Muggles.

"No, it really is. A stupid tradition, but real still."

He knew how to pretend like he belonged, at least. Saying the right words, acting like _their_ behaviour was normal, acknowledging the weirdness of something quite expected in his world… That's how you did it; you pretended that they were right and people would like you. It was a new skill that Sirius acquired. Maybe it was his method of survival. In the end, he didn't care that he was essentially lying.

After all, whatever happened, this was temporary.

This conversation, this bar, this woman, even he as the person he was today, at this very moment, was temporary. Neither she nor the other people he met at the bar would be fixtures in his life.

"So, what do you do _Sirius Black_?" she asked, assessing him unapologetically. She still considered his name to be a joke. He didn't take offence in that.

"Do?" he shrugged. "Nothing. I'm currently living in the house my parents unwillingly left me with my Godson and his best friend. I come here to drink, and during the day I usually ride around with my bike."

"You don't work?" she asked, and he knew he had already put himself into her 'probably no' pile. He wouldn't stay there. Sirius knew that there was a difference between 'unemployed' and 'inherited shit loads of money'.

"Nope," he said with another smirk. He swirled the whiskey in his glass. "And I drink too much. A typical low life, if you will."

She looked at him with narrowed eyes and a frown.

"You don't sound like it," she said.

"No?" he asked, raising his eyebrow. "Oh, but I am. I even have tattoos, look."

He waved his fingers at her, showing off the faded ink on his hands. She looked at him all too knowing.

"Does everyone judge you so?"

He stopped and eyed her, realising somehow he brought the topic to an unwanted territory of serious matters.

 _Sirius matters,_ James snickered in his mind, and Sirius sent him a mental snort.

"Of course they do," he said to his companion. "Don't they judge you? I thought that was what people do?"

She laughed again. "Oh, I like you."

"Good," Sirius said, sipping his drink. "Good."

There was a heated silence after that, starting from the moment he locked his eyes with hers at the end of his word. She looked back at him with brown eyes that reminded him of something, like a distant memory, creating a desire that he felt like it belonged to an external source. Almost wanting her, wanting her just enough.

It wasn't enough.

It would never be enough.

* * *

It came and went again in waves.

Desire was something hard to catch, a fickle thing. Even when he didn't hear the voices he thought of them. He tried to regain his focus, and as much as he tried harder it became.

He forgot her name right at the moment he wanted to say it to her. He felt his excitement die as he was trying to reach deeper inside her. The woman he already didn't know became a complete stranger and guilt filled him.

He placed his hand in between her thighs, and her eyes shut tight. He exhaled a shaky breath, continuing.

 _What is the point,_ he asked himself.

She came; eyes closed, legs shaking, body halting.

He wanted to cry, as he felt no joy from hers and slowly slid out of her. He tried not to feel so much, he just couldn't help but think he had been the losing side.

 _There is nothing to win,_ a voice said, and it was so faint he couldn't place which ghost it belonged to.

Anger filled him.

 _Leave me alone_ , he thought at the voice. _Leave me alone, at least now. Leave me the fuck alone._

It was like a prayer in his mind.

"Are you okay?" a voice asked, and Sirius had to think for a while to make sure if it was from his companion or another ghost. He turned to the woman beside him.

"Yeah," he said.

"I thought I lost you there, for a second."

He still didn't recall her name.

It left a bad taste in his mouth, like dead rats. Unfortunately, he knew how they tasted too well for his comfort.

She looked happy, though. Her hair was wet and her face shining with sweat, her eyes full of mirth. She was glowing.

He hated it, seeing her happy when he felt so disgusted with himself when he felt this much shame. Didn't she even realise? He knew that it was not her fault, in the back of his mind. He knew he was being unfair. She was enjoying the moment and her life. It wasn't her fault that Sirius was a failure at this as much as anything else.

 _Did he start his self-loathing rant again?_

Sirius closed his eyes and tried to ignore his brother's voice.

"Just tired I suppose," he mumbled at the woman. She hummed lowly and climbed on top of him. Sirius opened his eyes.

The dim light of the room was hitting behind her, creating a silhouette. He couldn't make out the details of her face, only her curves were visible. He ran his hands on her sides. Her hair was messy and he liked that. He didn't know it was a thing he liked. Or maybe he had forgotten.

"I've never seen tattoos like yours," she said as her palms travelled his chest and her fingers traced his visible bones.

He wished he had put on more fat and muscle before being inspected like that.

"Just symbols," he murmured. He didn't feel like talking. "Runes and such…"

She started to move slowly, touching his shoulders, hips and even legs. He wished he'd feel some sort of excitement as she touched his stomach, as her hands dipped lower trailing towards his cock.

"They are beautiful," she almost purred.

He laughed, and even to his ears it sounded awful. She looked at him, he supposed, although he didn't really see anything but the angle of her head.

"Thank you," Sirius said. "Some of them are prison tattoos."

"You are pulling my leg with that _dangerous criminal_ thing, right?" she asked and moved her hips.

Sirius sighed.

He chose her because she didn't know him yet he hated that she didn't know him. His mind didn't seem to reach a decision. He was dangerous, once, and a criminal. He was neither of those things and both of those things. It was too complicated and telling her would be too much of an effort. How did you say I was wrongly imprisoned for twelve years for the murder of my best friends? How did you explain that you actually _were_ about to commit a murder, rightful or not, but was outwitted by your old friend?

How did you build anything that resembled a relationship from this point on?

Too much effort.

"I need to go," he said and gently tapped her legs to alert her that she needed to get off of him.

"You can stay," she said, but still slid down to her bed. "I won't assume anything by it."

Sirius smiled at her as he got up. He found his trousers on the ground and wore them, checking if his wand was still where he left them.

"I still need to go," he said. "Need to make breakfast tomorrow."

"To your godson?" she asked with mirth and Sirius nodded. "That was real?"

"Yeah, godson and his friend. Hermione won't eat unless I make her eat."

"Hermione… Funny name. Does everyone you know have weird names?" she thought aloud with a giggle. "How old is she?"

Sirius stopped and thought about what year it was. He quickly calculated.

"Twenty-two. No. Three," he said, and leant to give her a peck on the lips.

"Bit old for you to take care of, don't you think?" she laughed.

Sirius stilled, his body hanging in between them and his lips a breath away from hers. He straightened his back.

"There is no age for needing someone to help you," he said coldly.

The girl, the _woman_ , blinked. "I didn't mean anything-"

"It's okay," he cut her off and found his shirt and with a sigh, he continued. "I know. I know, it's… Good to be useful, sometimes. I didn't get to be for a while, I really _was_ in prison, you know." He turned to her, reminding himself she wasn't his enemy, and he didn't need to find something to blame her for to stop himself from feeling guilty. He wore the shirt. "So I make breakfast." He slipped his feet into his shoes. "I live with them because Harry wants me to… And it makes me feel good. So I have to go, not because I'm running from you. But I'm _needed_ there."

She listened to him talking in silence and then suddenly got up as Sirius wore his jacket. She took a piece of paper from a notebook at the side of her bed, and wrote some numbers on it.

"Call me, if you ever need to talk someone."

He looked at the note and slowly took it. His eyes lifted to meet hers.

"I can't- not… I'm not the best man to-"

"Not for _that_ ," she said quickly. "I know. I mean, I know that you kind of- that you didn't really enjoy it. The sex." She laughed nervously. "I just think you may need a friend who isn't your godson, or his best friend who is a twenty-three-year-old woman-" Sirius scowled at her, offended. "No, not judging! That's my number, and you can, you know, call me if you like. To talk. Or whatever."

"Or whatever?"

She nodded and shrugged nervously with a laugh.

"Yes, whatever." She took a thin robe from a chair and wore it. "You know where the door is, right?"

Sirius nodded, confused.

 _She fancies you mate,_ James said in his head. Sirius frowned at him and at the paper in his hands. He looked at her and she was smiling to him.

"Alright," he said, suddenly feeling lighter.

He knew he wouldn't call her. He didn't even know how to _call_ someone. He knew he wouldn't try to reach out to her. It was still nice, he supposed, to have the option. It was almost like the old days.

As Sirius walked out of the flat he heard her shout:

"My name is Carla!"

He burst out a loud laugh, and as he walked down the street he was still smiling.

* * *

 **As always, million and one thanks to Kreeblim Sabs for alpha-reading this story. She gives me courage!**

 **I thought it was time for a closer look at Sirius' life. Let me know what you think of it!**

 **You can also contact me at tumblr, i am there as synoir as well.**

 **Love,**

 **Synoir**


	4. Chapter 4

**4**

There was silence in the Grimmauld Place.

Sirius inhaled the familiar smell that moulded itself into every corner of the dog in him could differentiate each tone, separately and all together. The mixture of mint, lavender, vanilla, the faint aroma of an opened wine, wood from the furniture, the cleaning products used on the carpets, tonight's dinner which obviously had been pizza from that Italian place in Islington and the coffee that was left over in the pot… Everything.

And he loved every bit of it. It smelled like home. The townhouse was completely altered and cleaned. Harry had brought life into it and even though begrudgingly, Sirius enjoyed the place.

 _Imagine your mother's face if she saw it now, mate,_ James' voice chuckled in his head, and Sirius laughed along with him, his feet taking him to the library. He stopped midway, realising what he was laughing at.

His dead best friend's voice.

His laughter died in his throat. It was as if he remembered where he was and the walls suddenly were covered by portraits of his ancestors instead of photographs of Harry's friends. He could even feel the shift in the air, as dark magic filled the place like slime and he could almost hear his mother's voice that should be absent.

Was it just another ghost? Or was he truly imagining it?

 _Stop being so over-dramatic, brother._

He felt shivers run down his spine. He put his hand on the wall and a wave of nausea hit him.

 _Please, Sirius,_ said the voice as arrogant as its owner. _I'm only your brother. Is this really necessary?_

"I'm sorry," he said and immediately regretted that he opened his mouth to talk.

He wished the world would stop spinning like it was going to leave its orbit.

 _For what?_ Regulus' voice sounded genuinely curious. _Death gives a certain perspective to things, Sirius. If there was anything to forgive between us, I'm pretty sure me dying has trumped that._

"I should have taken you with me, should have forced you to come with me. Shouldn't have cared what a little shit you were, ignored your protests…"

 _Stop it, really. Regrets are boring. And your guilt is just annoying._

Sirius laughed bitterly at that. "I always annoyed you," he said, leaning on to the wall with his back, feeling that he wouldn't be able to carry himself any longer. "Why stop now?"

"Sirius?"

Sirius jumped and turned to the owner of the voice. Hermione stood there, wearing a pale pink dress. A nightgown maybe, he wasn't sure, but it made her skin glow. Her hair was free of the confines she often put on them. No hair band nor products to keep them tame. Instead, it looked clean, shiny and soft.

And wild.

 _You are staring, Padfoot,_ said the mocking voice of Lily.

"Hermione," he exhaled, just to say something to fill the silence.

Hermione looked at him, her eyes assessing and thoughtful.

"Are you okay?" she asked in a tiny voice.

"Did I wake you up?" he countered instead, avoiding to answer.

"No, I was reading," she said and took a step towards him. "I heard some chatter, and I thought…"

She didn't say what she thought.

"Good, uh, that's good…" Sirius said lamely. Did she hear him talking to Regulus? Well, to himself?

She was near him, suddenly. He could smell that she had taken a shower, or maybe a bath soaked in lavender oil that would explain the smell that taken over the house. He wanted everything to smell like this. He wanted to whine like a puppy now that she was so near, not knowing why. He wanted to growl too, but not out of anger. He wished he knew what it was that caused him to feel that way. The sound that left his throat was a mixture of both. It was pathetic to his ears.

He wanted to turn to Padfoot. It was easier when one was an animal. Nothing was so confusing then, the emotions didn't need to make sense like they did when you were a man.

"Where-" she began but stopped. "Sirius, I heard you talking."

Sirius shook his head and took a step back. "You heard wrong."

Denial was never a good method of taking back control, though. He had to be better than that since he knew that she wouldn't buy it. He was basically telling her to shut up, not to ask questions. It was disrespectful and he didn't want that.

What _did_ he want?

His eyes saw her tiny feet, naked and toenails painted. He swallowed.

Within that moment of silence, Hermione came inside his personal space and her arms wrapped around his waist. His thoughts halted, so did his body. He remembered to put his arms around her only after few seconds. His nausea stopped. The eerie noise that always reminded him that the voices were near stopped as well. The weird and dark perception of his surroundings disappeared. He was still, and the house he was in became home again, without a trace of the darkness it once carried.

And it smelled like lavenders.

His mind clearer now, he looked at the witch. She was sad, for some reason, he hoped that she wasn't sad for him. Were the lines on her forehead a sign of worry?

"Are you okay?" he asked. He wanted the answer to be a smile and a 'yes.'

She nodded, and it wasn't good enough for Sirius. She looked up at him. "Are you?"

He smiled softly at her, touching her hair. He wanted to nod, but he shook his head instead. He couldn't lie to her.

No more denying. He had to own up to his problems. He had to grow up.

"No," he sighed.

It felt good to admit it. It felt strangely strengthening and in control. What a conundrum.

"Are you drunk?" she asked this time, a single eyebrow in the air. She was looking up but he could see that she was trying to look taller than him. He chuckled.

It was cute.

"I was," he smiled. "Not anymore, I think."

She sighed and gave up playing the bossy one just like that. "Want to talk?" she asked.

"Until the sun rises?" he countered with a grin.

She giggled. It was far better than the soft tone of worry. He had to find a way to make that stick.

"But with coffee instead of firewhiskey?" When Sirius nodded she added: "I'll make it. Why don't you wait in the garden?"

Sirius put a kiss on her forehead, ignoring his conscience that screamed for him to stay away.

 _I don't think you should stay away, Sirius._

His brother's voice was like a whisper, coming from far away, but still near. Were these voices just an excuse his maddened, deprived mind was creating?

 _As if you could be that imaginative,_ Regulus answered this time, and Sirius could swear, as Hermione slid out of his arms with a smile, he had heard Lily Potter's infamous loud snort. Sirius ignored it. He squeezed Hermione's arm, not too hard, just enough to remind him of the living, and just like that the constant buzz of the veil was gone again.

"I'll take mine black, darling," he said in the real world.

"I know," Hermione said with a smile.

He allowed her to leave as he went out to the little garden of the townhouse. He took out his jacket, since the night was warm, and put it on the back of the chair he then sat on. He reached down the pockets of the jacket from where they hung to take out a pack of _Magus Gold*_ cigarettes. He picked one from it, his favourite brand solely because it was what the weird man in Hogsmeade sold around a corner when he was a teenager.

There was a soft wind and he found it quite enjoyable. His arms felt a little chilly, and although Sirius hated the cold, he couldn't find it in himself to complain. Everything cold used to remind him of Azkaban. Since the veil, or rather his return from it, the prison he spent the years that should have been his best was like a distant memory. Maybe he was starting to associate things in a healthier manner now.

It still affected him, of course.

He didn't think he could handle seeing Dementors again and he still was unable to cast a Patronus. It was hard to remember good memories and when he did, they came with the bad.

A single good memory.

That was all he needed.

 _She is coming,_ Regulus said. _Don't worry, we'll leave you alone._

 _Thank you,_ Sirius thought at the voice, and he _was_ thankful to a degree. But even in his head it sounded sarcastic.

He turned towards Hermione who floated their coffees on to the small table of the garden. She sat down on the second chair.

"Oh, no," Hermione said when she saw that he was moving his chair to see her better. "Please, don't disturb yourself."

"I want to see you," Sirius said, and Hermione looked down, curls falling over her face to cover it from him. She huffed and pushed them away, looking annoyed at her untameable hair.

"Alright, then," she said.

They sipped their coffees in silence. Since they started to live together Sirius had realised that Hermione was not the best cook. It could be because she rarely ate, of course, but he doubted it.

But, damn, could she brew a coffee.

"Where were you today?" Hermione asked conversationally, as Sirius sighed contently into his coffee cup.

"Went to a nearby pub," he said. "There are so many places I don't recognise around here. Need to discover the town, you know."

Hermione hummed and stared at her cup.

"Harry gave his resignation today," she said. Sirius was startled to hear it, but also he knew that they were avoiding talking about what she witnessed back inside. "He'll just need to work for another month, close his cases and transfer them."

"I didn't know he was planning to do that," Sirius said.

He, too, wanted to talk about something other than himself.

"He didn't tell me either," she said. "I mean, he was considering it, but… I think it might be a sudden decision."

"Not much of a planner, is he?"

Hermione laughed at that like she remembered a funny memory, something funnier than his comment. Sirius noticed her collarbones, sharp and hollow. It was beautiful, but also too thin.

"Did you eat today?" he asked her, while his mind informed him that aside from the dress' stripes her shoulders were naked.

He moved uncomfortably on his chair as he noticed that she wasn't wearing a bra. He was sure that he shouldn't have become aware of that. He was sure no decent man in his place would.

Still, instead of avoiding her completely, he looked at her face.

"Of course," she said. Sirius knew she was lying.

"Liar."

Hermione blushed even further and ducked her head. "I don't know why it's your business if I eat or not, Sirius."

"You didn't eat, you didn't sleep. What did you do today, for yourself, aside from a shower, Hermione?"

"Again, I don't see how that's any of-"

"Don't," Sirius interrupted her. "Please, do not finish that sentence, kitten. It's not any business of mine. It doesn't need to be. I care."

"I'm perfectly fine, I just don't have an appetite nowadays, that's all," she said in defence of herself.

"I hear voices," he said suddenly, deciding to remind her it wasn't only her that had problems. "You heard me talking to them didn't you?" Hermione nodded hesitantly. Sirius continued to stare at her face. "That's why you made that coffee, that's why you are sitting there, in the middle of the night, away from your books and your warm bed. That's why you are looking at my drunkenly debauched face, that definitely doesn't deserve your care the least." He grinned. "Tell me, why is it any of your business?"

She bit her lips and sighed deeply. Sirius could see the change in her demeanour. She accepted her fate, apparently.

"Food doesn't taste good," she explained. "I barely have time for it anyway, it just seems so irrelevant and unnecessary."

"You'll get stupid if you don't eat," Sirius said with a grin. "And then what will you do?"

"Use my feminine wiles?" Hermione joked, but she said it in such a way Sirius frowned.

"Oh, kitten, I'm sure that'd work great for the rest of the world," he said leaning a little. "But would it be enough for you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and then looked at him pointedly.

"What voices?" she asked.

The witch was treating this like a Beater practice. He had hit the ball towards her, and now she did the same. Well, Sirius had made his bed and would lie in it. He was the one that offered her to talk about his problems in exchange for hers to begin with and fair was fair.

"Everyone," he said with a shrug. The first word was easy to speak, the rest wasn't so easy. "The dead."

He had expected the silence that came after the reveal. He still hated to see how Hermione's eyes softened and her gaze fell on him with pity. Sirius smoked the last of his cigarette and threw it on the ground, knowing Kreacher would clean it up the next day.

"Don't," Sirius warned Hermione but the girl shook her head.

"I'm not. I… Are they real?" she questioned.

"How can they be?" Sirius said with a scowl.

"Well," Hermione said with a frown. "Everything is possible. You were in the veil, Sirius. I mean I don't think you really died, you are awfully solid for a ghost, but you were, alive at the moment or not, inside the veil. That could explain _why_ you hear voices."

"Or I'm losing my mind."

"Or _that_ , but-"

Sirius cut her off.

"But nothing." He usually enjoyed Hermione as her mind whirled and reached the possibilities surrounding a situation. But apparently, not when the topic was him. "If I lose my mind, what else do I have? How far will the madness go? How far will I lose myself?"

"Occlumency, have you tried that?"

Sirius took a deep breath to relax and to try to find some stability in her desire to logically assess the situation.

"It's tiring," he answered her question. "I never been really good at it and it's so very tiring Hermione."

"But it works?"

Sirius nodded begrudgingly. "Yeah, suppose it does." He swiftly threw in his card this time, he didn't want to allow her to focus on him too much. He smiled at her, and she bit her lips. Sirius knew she wasn't aware of it. She just had felt what was coming. "Did this not-eating thing you've got going on started after Ron?"

Hermione huffed at him and rolled her eyes. Still, the game was on and she was aware of it. She shook her head, hair bouncing.

"It comes and goes. It's not necessarily when I feel bad, Sirius. I know what you are thinking." She really did, it seemed. "It's just sometimes I forget. And everything starts to taste bad. I drink my coffee with milk or eat a piece of ham to sustain me when I feel hungry. But…"

"You eat when I prepare something," Sirius reminded her.

"You ask me to," Hermione said as soon as he finished his sentence and Sirius looked at her, halted.

She blushed and looked away.

Sirius grinned.

"Would you eat three meals a day, if I asked you to?" he asked.

"It's not that I don't _want_ to eat!" Hermione objected heatedly.

"Right, it's me not asking you to."

"You are so annoying sometimes, did you know that?" Hermione huffed, crossing her arms.

"Yes, I do," he said with a grin, then allowed it to become a smile. "Hermione," he said in a soft tone that he knew would get through to her. "I really want you to take care of yourself."

"Why?" she asked. Maybe he was starting to associate things in a healthy manner now.

Sirius didn't know the answer so clearly until he spoke it.

"Because you need someone to want it," he said softly. "Even if it's me."

* * *

 _ ***Credit to The Artful Scribbler for the brand name. Thank you!**_

 **My lovely Alpha-Reader Kreeblim Sabs breathes life into this story. I can't thank her enough for that.**

 **I want to dedicate this chapter to my grandmother, the princess of our family, who has passed away. She would think Sirius as someone lacking in morals, and click her tongue at him yet would never judge him, and probably would knit a scarf for him. She lived encouraging people to be themselves, even when she thought it was against her better judgment and I will miss her terribly.**

 **Also to Barbar, our dog, who has passed away today. I will miss his huge hugs, and paws as big as my head. He was a true knight.**

 **This chapter gives me joy. I hope it will do the same for you.**

 **Please leave a review, for as you know, they are what sustains us.**

 **Love,**

 **Synoir**


	5. Chapter 5

**5**

He waited for the morning.

During the night, Hermione and Sirius had ended up chairs side by side. His feet were on the table, uncaring that he was still wearing his shoes and it was where they ate time to time. When you spent all night talking, things like hygiene and propriety had a tendency to disappear.

Hermione was snuggling Sirius' leather jacket, almost disappearing into it as she slept. Her feet were hidden somewhere on the chair, and it marvelled Sirius how can someone fit to a garden chair, or actually be comfortable in that position, but somehow Hermione looked happy where she was. Sirius was glad it was a Sunday and she didn't need to go to work. He'd hate to wake her up for work after keeping her awake all night, talking.

Getting up slowly, Sirius stretched his arms and legs. It was going to be a horrible day full of headache after not sleeping all night. But he couldn't find it in himself to regret it still.

Sirius leaned and carefully picked Hermione up. She opened her eyes for a second, smirked and closed them again. He chuckled lowly at her reluctance to wake up. He moved carefully in the garden and entered through the open door to the house, minding to be silent.

He climbed the stairs and came face to face with Harry.

The boy stopped in his Auror robes and looked at him, startled.

"Sirius!"

"Morning Harry," Sirius whispered, feeling shy for some unknown reason.

Harry looked at Hermione who was sleeping in his arms.

"Is she okay?" he asked.

"Of course," Sirius said, still whispering. "We talked last night, she fell asleep."

"Right," Harry said. Sirius thought he looked uncomfortable but he couldn't fathom why. "So, you'll make sure she is fine?"

Sirius grinned and nodded. "Not that she needs it, kiddo."

Harry looked at Hermione once again, then he raised his eyes to Sirius. For a second he seemed solemn and his eyes were harsh, but then he just gave Sirius a nod.

"Have fun at work," Sirius said to stop him from trying to come to conclusions. Harry laughed nervously and ran down the stairs leaving Sirius to adjust Hermione in his arms. It was getting harder and harder to carry her.

He finally reached her room and cursed slowly after seeing that her door was closed. He could try to bend and shift his hand a little to push the door open, but he wasn't sure if he could bend and straighten like that with a Hermione in his arms. He could, of course, try to open it with his feet, but that was as acrobatic and risky as the first option. He sighed and focused his magic, hoping that he'd manage the wandless spell. Sure enough, the door clicked and fell open. Feeling proud and much more self-assured than he felt in a long time, Sirius adjusted Hermione once again and entered the room.

He reached her bed and placed her on it. She moved again, looking content.

"I'll need that jacket, love," Sirius mumbled as he tried to gently take it off of her.

"No," came out of the little witch's mouth as a whine. Sirius chuckled.

"Come on now, you have a huge cover here," he tried to reason with the subconscious of the sleeping woman, who mumbled something incomprehensible back at him. Sirius bit his lips to stop himself from laughing and waking her.

He allowed his hands to sneak in the jacket and push it from her shoulders. She stirred and turned, taking Sirius' hand with her. He was trapped. The witch was holding his hand under her weight, between her and the jacket. He tried to pry it gently but somehow it didn't move. Sirius laughed. The witch was clinging to his arm.

"Come on, kitten," he began but he stopped.

They were too close. His throat dried when he heard her breath left her mouth in the shape of his name at the same time he realised that his hand was under her breast. The blood rushed down to his cock.

" _Sirius,_ " she had said.

 _Sirius._

Sirius jumped from the bed and took his hand while he did so. She whined.

Gods, she whined.

Sirius had forgotten how a woman could cause an erection so easily. It hadn't been easy for too long. He had begun to think that it was a thing that ordinarily happened when he started his bike when he flew with it. Something that came and went when his blood pumped. How long had it been since he felt that for a woman without convincing his mind to get excited? Without it being a task? He didn't remember.

He looked at her as she adjusted herself deep within the jacket, hugging it, disappearing into it. He mussed his hair nervously. How could he think of Hermione like that? She was the only woman he wasn't allowed to think like that, and of course, his body had ignored that.

 _Just your body?_

That had to be the moment the voices came back.

Maybe they were already there. Except when he was with her he did not hear them.

 _Shut up_ , Sirius thought back. He looked at the sleeping girl one last time and basically ran out of the room that smelled of lavenders and Hermione.

His erection didn't leave. His heartbeat didn't calm down. All he could do was to go into his room, like he was being chased by fire, and hide there.

 _Mate, calm your tits. You just have a hard-on._

 _Shut up, James. Leave the guy alone!_

 _What? He is acting ridiculous!_

 _Maybe so, but you can try to be more understanding._

 _Lily's right, Prongs. Maybe we should opt for silence_ this _time._

"Oh, for fuck's sake, shut up!" Sirius roared and ran to the adjoined bathroom, turning on the cold water.

He wouldn't lose his wits. He just _wouldn't._

Undressing swiftly, he entered the shower, allowing the water to take out the heat from his body. He stood there, almost motionless and closed his eyes.

Why did his body react to her so?

She was precious, he knew. And impossible. Was it that, then, that excited him? That she was forbidden?

The thought disgusted him. Could he be so shallow?

He had noticed himself noticing her. He had noticed the way she yawned when she entered the kitchen, and he had noticed her hair looking glorious when sun hit her head. He had noticed that she liked walking barefoot, and her self-assured gait, her all too knowing smirk, her lips creating an 'O' when she realised something…

Heat gathered in his body despite the cold water. His hard-on was even more prominent now. He allowed his forehead to fall to the tiles and let out a sigh. He wouldn't touch himself imagining her.

He couldn't.

 _Any woman,_ he thought. _Pick any other woman, you stupid man._

Sirius searched his mind, to bring out another fantasy, and for some wretched reason, they all had her face. He tried to think of something ghastly, enough to shock him out of his arousal. He tried to think of Transfiguration theories, but it only brought thoughts of her stronger.

The more he tried to stop thinking about her, the more insistent it became. He used to be much better at stopping his imagination taking control over his mind. The scent of lavender was still filling his nostrils, reminding him how close they were just moments ago and the feel of her breast as his hand had been trapped between her and his jacket.

His hand moved of its own accord and he grabbed the insistent hardness. He had been so close to her. He had been right there, hovering above when her presence washed over his being. He squeezed his fist as he recalled her soft sigh. He remembered how she leaned over the table back in the garden, and how he had seen a glimpse of the swell of her breast.

What colour were her nipples? How sensitive were they? Would she sigh if he'd took them between his lips and teased them? What sound would she make if he'd sucked them in, would she like it if he'd use his teeth a little?

Would she like it if he'd used them _more_ than a little?

Would her legs fall open for him, or would he have to use his hands to pry them to fall between them?

Would she be wet?

Would her lips drop his name again?

How would she feel if he were inside of her? Would she be silent or loud, or maybe both?

Maybe they could gradually fall into that heated rhythm, and he'd manage to turn her silent moans into desperate cries, and maybe, if he'd be so lucky, she'd fall apart and he'd fall apart and-

 _Fuck._

He felt the world halt, and everything flashed bright. Just like that, the reality came crashing down, along with it came the guilt and shame. He washed in silence, his heartbeat finally calming down.

He left the bathroom after taking his wand from his discarded trousers. The bedroom was filled with sunlight now. He wore a pair of pyjamas that he had left on his unmade bed the day before and then sat in his armchair by the window.

 _Firewhiskey would be good right about now,_ he thought.

 _I don't think so,_ came the voice of Remus.

 _Yeah, mate. You need to sleep._

"You guys are dead," Sirius said. "I'm sure that makes my sleeping pattern none of your business."

 _You really wanna spend the day drunk, then passed out?_

Sirius snorted. He had no will left in him to try to defy the fact that he was hearing voices. He wished Hermione was there with him, she'd eventually make some sense of this mess he was in.

 _Except now,_ he heard Remus say, and it was almost as if he was resting his behind on the window sill, _the mess includes her._

"It appears to be," Sirius accepted and swirled his wand in his hand. He had bought it sometime after his return. He still missed his wand made of English Oak, but Aurors had broken it when he was captured.

After his return, they had given his belongings back to him. The leather jacket he had been arrested in, which currently was wrapped around Hermione, the muggle lighter with a pinup etched on that Lily gave him on his eighteenth birthday, three galleons and some number of knuts, some dungbombs that he used to use as pranks and later as distraction against Death Eaters and his wand that chose him when he was eleven in two pieces had been presented to him in a pile. The dragon heartstrings had been dead already, no longer glowing with magical power that they once harnessed. The body of the oak had lost its shine and had cracks on them. _No chance for saving it,_ he had thought. The young Auror that gave them to him looked apologetic, and Sirius had wished he could have been angry with her. But it hadn't been her fault. He wasn't sure whose fault any of it was.

 _He is changing the subject._

 _I'm well aware Prongs._

 _What will we do about it Moony?_

 _We can talk about the fact that he had just jerked off to fantasies of the biggest swot Hogwarts has ever seen?_

 _That dirty old dog!_

"Fuck off, Prongs," Sirius said.

Why was he grinning like a fool? Prongs was dead.

 _Oh, this again,_ James' voice rang. _I don't know why you are so fixated on me being corporeal, Sirius. Were you harbouring some sort of crush on me?_

"I'm not changing the subject," Sirius grumbled opting to answer the real matter that his friends wanted to talk about instead of playing the _Embarrass the Marauder_ game.

 _Really? Wand metaphors?_ Really _Padfoot?_

 _He has a Blackthorn wand, now,_ Remus was saying, as if he was defending Sirius' choice of nonexistent metaphor. _Black-thorn. Get it?_

 _Oh, when you put it that way..._

Sirius laughed, exasperated. The ghosts of his friends laughed along with him.

"She is too young for me," he said only later. "She is Harry's friend. James, you need to _see_ why she can't be for me."

 _I do,_ James said. _But, then again, she is a grown woman. It would be weird if you raised Harry, and I don't know, threw birthday parties that she came to visit your home in the summer._

 _It would be weird if you've seen her grow up before your eyes,_ Remus added. _But you didn't. She has become a woman without your influence, Sirius. And she_ is _a woman._

Sirius stared at his wand.

 _Blackthorns are for warriors,_ James said, maybe knowing what Sirius' mind was trying to reach. _Are you not going to fight for a life yet, Sirius?_

"And whose life it'll be Prongs? My own?" Sirius sighed. "A man like me isn't good for Hermione."

 _I agree,_ Sirius heard Remus say. It stung, but Sirius was trapped, after all, Remus was only sending his own thoughts back at him. _You aren't. You could be, though, if you want._

"Want what, exactly?" he mumbled dejectedly.

What was left to want? What _did_ normal people want? The Muggles in pubs wanted to pay their loans, or they wanted to visit Portugal, to buy a new home, get a raise, have more sex… But did he really know what they actually wanted?

There was nothing _to_ want.

 _Except now you want Hermione,_ James reminded him.

Sirius sighed again. He really needed firewhiskey to have this conversation.

 _And it's not that surprising really,_ Remus added. _I think you guys could be something._

 _Yeah, she doesn't take any of your shit. Never mind the fact that you fancy her, mate,_ James was saying. _A lot._

Sirius sighed. Maybe they were right.

 _You said you wanted to take back control,_ Remus added. _Just start already._

* * *

 **Hello Again!**

 **As always, many thanks to Kreeblim Sabs for alpha-reading this story! While we are at it, she is an amazing writer and you all should check her stories out!**

 **Reviews, as you know, are the best of treats!**

 **Merry Christmas and Happy New Year everyone!**

 **Love,**

 **Synoir**


	6. Chapter 6

**6**

When Sirius finally woke up, he already knew it was late by the way his head was aching and by the fact that he didn't want to get up, even though he wasn't feeling sleepy.

The feeling was familiar and made his mental clock shout "it's past noon, you lazy tosser!" along with the knowledge that he would have to get up. Hermione, probably, already was.

It was, of course, that thought that made his eyes pop open, reminding him everything about the previous night starting with the embarrassing parts. He groaned covering his eyes with his arm, wanting to bid the image to hell. Further down the pit the better.

He couldn't. It was as if they were carved into his skull; the images of Hermione and the feeling that those images gave him when he had been alone. The early morning of the night that he shagged another woman, too.

He was a lost cause, wasn't he?

 _What a_ wonderful _morning, isn't it?_

"Morning, Lily," he mumbled. "Why so chipper?"

 _I just enjoy seeing you miserable,_ Lily chimed and it was followed by an echo of laughter.

Sirius sighed and thought about what Hermione had said. Could these voices be real?

 _Coming around finally, I see,_ joined Tonks' voice between the laughter. Was it weird that it made Sirius think that how wonderfully she'd get along with Lily?

 _Not weird at all,_ Lily said. _We are._

"Excuse me, but it will take a little longer for me to take your word for it," Sirius said pushing his cover and getting up.

 _What? At worst we are your inner voice,_ Lily said.

 _Never bad to listen to yourself, either, dog-man,_ Tonks joined in.

 _Yeah, mate. If you can't take it seriously, take it Sirius-ly._

Naturally, it was James that said it and Sirius groaned freely. James hadn't made that pun since they were sixteen when he was alive. Unlike Sirius, it seemed, death didn't improve James' maturity.

 _Stuck forever at twenty-one. Died young, had a good-looking corpse,_ James said. _It does have its advantages._

Sirius did manage to not retort aloud, but it didn't help with these voices a bit since he knew they could all hear his thoughts. _Let's ask Harry what he thinks about that._

He wasn't sure if the room temperature really dropped low upon his thoughts or if it was his guilty conscience that had that effect on him. Sirius wasn't that much of a stranger of feeling guilty for his thoughts alone, but this was a new level of it.

"Sorry," he mumbled, not knowing if he should be saying sorry at all. He was truly sorry, but was it because saying something that would hurt James, or was it because he was the one that initially thought it?

 _It's alright_ , the voice whispered and it echoed in Lily's voice as well.

The simple sentence resonated in Sirius' head as he silently got out of the room without dressing for the day.

Could it be?

* * *

"Oh!"

Sirius turned smiling at the voice.

"Morning sunshine," he said with a grin. He wasn't sure what actually made Hermione blush this time.

She scuttered in with tiny steps and stood beside Sirius at a safe distance, just on the edge of being close to him. Sirius' heart hit his chest in loud thuds twice.

"Hi," Hermione said. "Oatmeal?"

"With banana and honey, and some nuts if you want."

Hermione hummed pleasantly. "I hung your jacket to the portmanteau," she said. "And no nuts, thank you."

"As you wish, love."

When Sirius glanced at her face with the corner of his eyes he saw that Hermione was staring at the bowls he was preparing and still had a tint of red on her face. He grinned.

"I hope that it's my naked chest that got you so pretty in pink."

Hermione turned beet red and looked at him like a rabbit caught on the light.

"What?" she blurted in a sweetly high-pitched voice that made Sirius laugh, which he was sure that Hermione was glad because it broke her stupor. "You animal!" she exclaimed and hit his arm with a closed fist that actually managed to hurt him.

"Ouch," he said, turning his body in a defensively. Sirius wasn't feeling like stopping with his teasing though. _Just start already._ "Caught you, did I?"

"Erase that nasty smirk on your face, Black!" she said angrily. "And, for the record, no. I do not care about your chest the slightest, _naked_ or _dressed_."

That, Sirius had to admit, hurt a bit more than it should since he knew that there was no way that Hermione would accept that she was blushing because of his scarcely dressed self even if she did. The human mind was weird, though, and Sirius had always been a little too vain.

"My dear maiden," he said dragging his words as he poured honey over the bowls. "I would never dare to call someone as sweet as you a liar." He put the honey jar aside and placed a spoon in each bowl. "As I am a gentleman." He took the bowls and held them between each other. "But we both know," he said as he turned and looked her dead in the eye returning to his regular voice. "You are big fat one."

Hermione took one of the bowls harshly and narrowed her eyes at him.

"I have no idea why I don't hex you to silence," she grumbled. "For forever."

Sirius continued to grin at her as his mind assessed the situation in front of him. He would either take a step further or backtrack.

 _Just start already._

"Because you like my voice too much, _kitten_ ," he whispered invading her personal space as walked past her towards the kitchen table.

It was a lucky thing that Hermione was a blusher since it made it slightly easier to assess the situation aside from it being a pretty sight. It was even luckier that she also didn't back down.

"Don't you forget that this kitten has claws, Black," Hermione said and put her bowl on to the table with a thud. She sat down rather indelicately in her chair.

She still had picked the chair right across him on the long table.

"Oh, I haven't," he said with a grin. "In fact, I can't wait for them to come out."

Hermione actually _harrumphed_ at that making Sirius let out a single laughter.

"You are lucky that I actually like you," she mumbled, taking the playfulness out of his system. Sirius actually smiled at that.

"I like you, too, witch."

Hermione's face softened at that and looked at him with bright eyes. Sirius would count the seconds that passed by if he wasn't too busy watching the lines of her face.

 _Merlin, can they be more sickening?_ Sirius heard Regulus complaining.

 _Leave them alone little Black,_ Lily chimed. _Or I'll haunt you._

 _Like you aren't already._

 _I think they are cute,_ Tonks said.

 _Of course, you think they are cute,_ Regulus was saying. _But you married Lupin, so forgive me if I don't take your word into account, cousin._

Sirius must have shown something on his face because Hermione spoke in a soft tone.

"You are hearing them again, right?"

Sirius nodded and ate a spoonful of oatmeal.

"What are they saying?" she asked.

"Regulus was expressing his distaste over Tonks' choice of husband," he said, not revealing what the voices were actually talking about.

"Regulus?" she asked curiously, and then she was thoughtful for a second. "Do you think he means it?"

Sirius raised an eyebrow at her. He thought about it. It had sounded like playful banter. Would the brother he knew think a werewolf a worthy husband? Would he care about a half-blood having a worthy husband?

"I- don't think so?" he said lamely.

There was a loud snort in his head. It felt angry.

 _Fuck you, Sirius._

Sirius sighed. "Seems like I offended the little one." He looked at Hermione. "I don't think I know my little brother well."

 _I'd say._

Hermione shrugged. "Isn't that normal?" she asked thoughtfully. "I mean, when was the last time you two actually had a conversation?"

"My last day at Hogwarts," Sirius said and pushed his bowl away, no longer feeling hungry. "Graduation. I said something about how sorry I was that I wasn't going to be available to make his life miserable anymore. He had said he hoped never to see me again. _'Because if we did Sirius, I do not think it will be in an environment fitting for civilians.'_ I figured he was Marked, then."

 _I was,_ Regulus said with a calmer voice.

Sirius nodded at the voice. He knew he had been so. He remembered the chill and the anger he had felt.

"Well," Hermione began and actually started to eat. The movement caught Sirius' eyes. "In that case, I don't think he should be offended by your lack of knowledge about his personality. I mean, I doubt he knows you too well, either." She stopped and seemed to be thinking over what she just said. "At least before he died. It doesn't count if he knows you now. He basically has an all-around access to your mind." She looked around, her eyes roaming over the kitchen as she was trying the assess where would Regulus be. "That's cheating, you know."

There was once again, laughter echoing in Sirius' mind that actually made him smile alongside them.

 _Tell that chit of yours to eat mother's sour face._

It was unfortunate that was the moment Sirius had begun eating his next bite. His laughter made him choke.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked as Sirius started to cough. He waved his hand nonchalantly to make her stop from reaching to help him.

"Yeah," he said, barely breathing. He coughed a several more times. "I'm fine."

"What happened?"

"Nothing. Nothing," Sirius said, yet he was unable to hold his smile back. "I just don't think Regulus actually appreciates you calling out his cheating habits."

Hermione snorted.

"Like I asked his opinion," she said indignantly. "Wanna-be ghost."

The clear insult towards one of the voices in his head, the gleam in her eyes and the seriousness of her voice was too much for Sirius. He started to laugh, loud and uninhibited, still coughing in between.

Hermione grinned at him and even joined his laughter. Sirius decided that he loved her playful side. Her angry side, too. Come to think of it, he enjoyed many layers Hermione had shown since he returned from the veil.

 _Since your mind could actually clear the dark thoughts and stop misinterpreting everything she said?_

It was Remus that spoke this time, and Sirius found himself agreeing with him. There had been a time that Sirius thought Hermione positively insufferable. But she had grown up, hadn't she? And Sirius…

 _You grew up, too,_ Lily said. _Now you had time for it._

His laughter now gone, Sirius leaned back in his chair. He looked at Hermione.

"You really think they are real?" he asked.

Hermione finished swallowing her food and he could see that she took her time with it, too, undoubtedly to ponder upon what she was going to say.

"I'm not _really_ sure," she said. "There are ways to test it, of course, I was thinking. Until then, I definitely _think_ that it is a very relevant possibility that we can't ignore or cast aside."

"Test it?" Sirius asked.

"Yes, I mean… Based on the information, you know. Things _you_ don't know, but others do. We could ask them, and see if there is any reality to it," she stopped her thought process abruptly, even that was a visible action for her face. She got solemn. "Not sure if we should, though."

"Why not?"

"We don't know the repercussions," she shrugged. "Do you want to know?"

The question was clear. Could he handle it if they were? Could he, if they were not?

His lack of answer must have been enough for Hermione.

"See," she pointed to him. "Exactly. Just don't let it stop you from having a good life, and it'll be fine."

 _Just start already._

Sirius nodded.

"I won't," he said. "You'll be around, won't you?"

With that, her blush was back, making Sirius wonder if she even realised how easy it was to put some colour on her face, but she didn't try to hide it, this time. Instead, she smiled back at him.

"Yep, right alongside with you."

* * *

 **Love and many thanks to Kreeblim Sabs for Alpha-Reading this story!**

 **I didn't have much time to post or respond to reviews this last month. I moved to a different city, and preparations for that while juggling work takes time and energy, as you'd guess. But now I'm sitting on my new flat, on my new bed, and writing these words. Life is, once again, under control -at least, as much as it can.**

 **I hope you'll enjoy this chapter and leave me a review!**

 **Love you all!**

 **Synoir**


	7. Chapter 7

**7**

 _Again_.

That last little push to have something that you already _had_ , to do it once more. Life was of moments like that. If you lived something good, you wanted to repeat it, cling to it.

 _Again._

Sirius could separate each part of his life to different episodes. The first great change had come when he had discovered those Muggle kids his age to play with and that it changed his entire life in a blink of an eye. Before that he had never realised that life was so changeable, so outside of routine. Before his playmates were discovered by his parents, everything had been alright. His mother had always been scary, but until they discovered he was a little blood-traitor-to-be it hadn't really affected him.

Then there was his Hogwarts years. He had started a new life the moment he stepped into that train that took him away from his monsters. After Hogwarts, there was the war and finally Azkaban, and then there was his life with Harry as its focus. He could separate and analyse each episode of his then short life.

Then came the Veil.

Sirius sped up in his motorbike, finding his way on the open road, getting ready to lift the wheels up in the air, but not yet. Because, then had came the Veil.

It was a non-existent part of his life. There were no memories that he brought back with him, and Sirius was partly glad that it was that way. Still, there was something strangely disturbing about waking up, and realising in between your two consciousness was an eight year gap.

It was almost like waking up with a hangover that left a blank spot in your memories of the previous night. The amnesiac feeling that bothered him, although, he knew very well the opposite would be even worse. Sirius didn't trust himself enough to think that his mind would have survived the ordeal if he had remembered the Veil.

He wondered sometimes if there actually would be memories at all to experience? Maybe that was it. Maybe it _had_ been nothingness, after all; maybe there was no gap in his mind and his mind remembered whatever it exactly was.

But then again, he had returned.

Unexpectedly and by surprising everyone, causing an Unspeakable to reportedly have a fainting episode in fear, he had returned.

To live _again_.

With a final push Sirius took his bike to the air. The lift up was the best part, undoubtedly, that sinking feeling in his stomach as his hair flew behind him.

To live again.

It was no longer an episode. It was a sequel, it was a new life, not a continuation.

The realisation didn't bring happiness, nor sadness. Sirius had loved his life before Azkaban happened and despite the war. After he escaped Azkaban there had been moments that he had thought he could be happy despite it all. All those were moot now, though.

Yes, he had his memories of his past life and they still defined him. He was still himself, Sirius Black; the Marauder, friend, godfather, animagus, Gryffindor, the son disowned -whatever he had been back then, he was now.

But he wasn't those things still, he was those things _again_.

Sirius didn't think his situation need to make him happy for a second chance, but it didn't need to make him despair because he had one, either. He just needed to live.

He inhaled deeply, realising that it wasn't hard to breath at all.

xXx

"Sirius."

Harry's voice cut through Sirius' thoughts that ran around his mind, leaving a debris of insecure confusion mangled with bitter resentment and voices that doesn't belong there. He tore his eye away from the window and allowed the curtain to close off.

"Yes, Harry?" he returned his godson and looked at him.

"Are you waiting for Hermione?" There was an edge of annoyance and humour on Harry's voice, the cocky disbelief towards something senseless that James had portrayed so often. He once knew how to respond to that tone so well in his previous life, in this one he didn't know what to say.

Sirius wanted to be surprised by his question, to be able to wonder how he came to that conclusion to begin with, to be able to deny it and meaning it, too. But he was waiting for Hermione, glued to the window, unable to stop himself from worrying.

"Should I not?" he asked instead.

"I think she was meeting with someone," Harry said. "She told me she was going to be late, so, yeah. You should not."

Sirius' heart constricted. Meeting with someone? Who?

Sirius didn't ask Harry. It wasn't his place. He could play it that he was concerned, everyone who lived through a war could be a little too vigilant, right? Just in case.

But it would be a lie, since he didn't feel worried and nervous because Hermione could be in danger. It would be way too convenient, but, oh, no. He was worried and nervous because Hermione Granger had a date, and Harry didn't even tell him who.

 _Well, I know who,_ came the smug voice of Tonks.

 _Don't tell me,_ was the thought came into Sirius' head that belong to him, followed by, _please, tell me. I need to know -no. Don't. Fuck. Stop._

 _Calm down,_ Tonks chastised. _I'm sure it'll go horrible._

 _He is as boring as the forgotten china in my grandmother's cabinet_ , Remus snorted.

 _Don't worry your pretty little head over it,_ Tonks said to Sirius.

 _You two are ruining all the fun,_ Regulus cut over. _Stop giving him clues about his life. Are they always this gossipy?_

 _Well, Remus always was,_ Lily's voice said with a sigh in response to Regulus' question, that was clearly asked to her. It was strange to think Regulus Black befriended Lily Potter in the Afterlife.

"Sirius?" Harry's voice cut through the others, louder than others, and Sirius clinged to it.

He hadn't even noticed his eyes were closed. He opened them and looked at Harry.

"I'm fine," Sirius said defensively. "I worry. It's not like her."

"We don't know if it's like her or not," Harry said, a sensible and sound voice that appeared without you expecting it, surprising Sirius whenever it did. The voice of a grown, mature man. Something James never had a chance to fully become, something Sirius didn't know if he was. "What with being in Hogwarts for seven years with a curfew, then war, then a steady relationship... We don't know if Hermione enjoys going out by herself and date around. I doubt it if she knows."

Sirius sighed. Harry was right and wasn't that a great reason to stop himself from going after Hermione.

 _Au contraire_ , James piped. _She could learn it with you instead of dating that tosser._

 _Aw, James, the kid is not a tosser._

 _Fuck he isn't._

 _You just say that because he is after Sirius' girl,_ Lily said.

 _Damn, right._

Sirius chuckled. He couldn't help it. It was funny, really, because James had always been like that.

"Sirius, you are drifting off again."

"Sorry, sorry… It's just that I'm tired, Harry," Sirius said.

"You are lying to me." It wasn't a question and Sirius wished he had a good come-back to argue against this, too. Why did Harry have to be so spot on? He could be the most oblivious person on the planet, until he wasn't, and when he noticed things he noticed them like the absolute truth they were and it scared Sirius.

He didn't want to be found out.

"Is there something going on between you and Hermione?"

Sirius' eyes darted to Harry and all the voices were suddenly silent. He could sense their excitement, wondering how he'd respond.

"Like what?" he asked, cursing himself. How did one _decline_ such a question. Which was the believable way? To deny it right off the bat or to act like you didn't understand the phrasing like it was the furthest thing from your mind?

"You… I like that you care about her, but," Harry stopped, seemingly considering what he'd say next. "Is it because she is your friend, or is there something there?"

Sirius spotted the bottle of firewhiskey on a tiny table by the corner and walked towards it. He couldn't lie to Harry, not to _him_. Maybe that was why it was hard to decide what to tell. Maybe that was why he was afraid he'd ask questions.

He took out two glasses and filled them generously. He could feel Harry's eyes watching him.

Sirius gave Harry's drink to him, and his godson held the glass. Sirius didn't let go and looked into his eyes.

"There is something there," he said, and he dropped his hand. He turned and downed his glass, filling another one as Harry stood there.

"Sirius-" Harry began, but he cut him off.

"I know. There shouldn't be."

"I don't know about that," Harry said with a sigh. "I just care that you two are alright. That's all I care. That's all I've ever cared. So be careful."

Sirius didn't know what to say to that.

 _Be careful. Start already. Live._

"How do I be careful with something like that?" he asked, feeling strange about asking relationship advice to Harry of all people.

Harry shrugged.

"Hell if I know."

xXx

Sirius waited.

He drank up a sober-up potion when the clock hit two in the morning, because by that time he was properly pissed, and if Hermione had come then, she'd have a drunk Sirius on her hands.

Sirius didn't want that.

He didn't drink after that, he just waited. Sleep was impossible. Sleep would be an anomaly when feeling like this. Strangely, his mind was silent. Not completely, there were whispers still, as if he was in a tunnel, and on the far side of it people were talking in hushed voices. He was still grateful to not hear what they were saying.

He was grateful for the illusion that he had his mind just to himself, even for this night alone.

When the door opened he got up from his seat like a spring. He halted, though, aware that if he'd run to her, it'd be weird.

He wanted to run to her.

His ears perked, listening her movements. He heard her sniffing.

That didn't sound good.

 _Fuck it all,_ he thought and walked out of the drawing room and there she was, by the stairs, taking her jacket off, eyes downcast.

"Hey, love," he called for her and she looked up. That was when he saw that she had been crying. He walked up to her, his heart beating a strange rhythm.

For some wretched reason seeing him didn't make Hermione smile, and Sirius didn't know why he wanted that to happen, but it was the better alternative of her averting eyes.

He touched Hermione's shoulder softly. "It's okay," he said. She shook her head. "Yes, it is." He pulled her against himself, enveloping her tiny form. "I got you, love."

Her shoulders shook as sobs escaped her.

"I hate myself."

Sirius' heart broke. Never in his life he wanted to hear those words again. Never again.

He separated himself from her, and looked into her eyes, bringing himself to her eye level.

"No, you don't, Hermione," he said and took the jacket she was still holding, hanging it over the railings. He held her hand. "Come," he said and started to climb up the stairs.

"Where are we going?"

"Library, of course."

Hermione sniffed again. "Why?"

"Because you like it there, it grounds you."

When they entered the library Sirius made her sit down, taking his place next to her. He placed his arm over her shoulders and pulled her head to his shoulder. Hermione followed suit even though a bit stiffly.

"Tell me."

And Hermione did. She had accepted the date because she figured that it was time. And the guy had been a gentleman, and she went to his home. They had sex.

Sirius tried not to die over that fact.

"Do I need to kill him?" he asked playfully. Hermione jerked and looked at him, and Sirius got serious. "Don't look at me like that love, you return from a night out, crying over the fact that you got laid. Did he do something to you? Just say yes, and I'll kill him. You know I will. No questions asked."

"No, of course not," Hermione said.,

"No of course not about it, kitten," Sirius said. "Just making sure." He started to play with a curl hanging above her shoulder. "I've got enough reasons to want to destroy the bloke as it is, however a _gentleman_ he was."

Hermione laughed and hit his shoulder playfully.

"I just felt horrible afterwards," she said. "I felt nothing for him. _Nothing._ And Ginny always goes around and has sex with whomever she wants, and why can't I do the same? I'm single. But obviously, I'm not Ginny. Nor Harry, for that matter. No one seems to have a problem about that, but me."

Sirius frowned, understanding what she was saying. He had been feeling similar, wasn't he? Since he had returned, Sirius too tried. But in the end, it always felt so meaningless. So hollow. He pulled her back to her place leaning on his shoulder and relaxed on the settee, feeling good when Hermione tugged her feet under herself as she did whenever she relaxed.

"No, you aren't anyone else," he said. "You, my little kitten, are made for something entirely different."

"And what is that?"

"I guess, we'll have to figure it out," Sirius said with a smile. She looked up to him, her breath too near.

She slowly reached, or maybe it wasn't so slow but Sirius' perception had become warped suddenly, because she _reached towards him_. She touched his hair, a feel so fleeting, and he looked down at her.

"Together?" she asked, and there was such a vulnerability in her voice it thundered in Sirius' ears. He nodded, unable to talk for his throat had closed up.

He wasn't even sure if he was breathing.

He hoped that she wouldn't notice how hard the thought of her made him.

"Together."

* * *

 **Long time no see!**

 **Again, thanks to Kreeblim Sabs for alpha-reading this story and her enormous support!**

 **I hope you'll enjoy this chapter!**

 **If you have questions reach me over tumblr, where you can find me under the same username: synoir**

 **Reviews are the greatest gifts!**

 **Oh, and happy belated V-Day to you all!**

 **Synoir**


	8. Chapter 8

**8**

Sirius stayed with Hermione that night.

He tucked her into her bed, making sure she was safely covered within the confines of her bed before turning to Padfoot and lying on the foot of her bed.

Her feet found Sirius' fur and were buried in them. It was a relaxing sensation. Peaceful in its innocence and proximity to her. Peaceful, because her breath didn't have traces of tears anymore, and in its stead was the steady rhythm of sleep.

Peaceful because the room smelled like her, and nothing else, and Sirius would die a happy man if he were to drown in it.

With that thought he knew he was absolutely doomed. It was a new sort of veil to fall into.

The awareness of the fact that he would have whatever she came to him with didn't break his peace. Neither did the fact that he cared about her happiness more than being with her.

Oh, he would take her as his woman, a decision made for him before he was aware of it himself. But if she wanted it to be just this, moments like this they shared, he'd have her anyway.

There were no questions or doubts in his mind about that. He didn't have fears of losing her, because he wouldn't.

He loved her.

And love, he realised, wasn't a bargaining chip. It wasn't an understanding, a promise nor an agreement.

Bother that it came with the seething jealousy over the fact that someone else had been with her just a few hours ago, but, fuck that. It was him that she was poking holes on the ribcage of with her tiny feet.

Sirius liked the person he was for her.

It was a good place to start.

* * *

He heard him again when Hermione and Harry were at work.

The coward had picked the time he'd be alone, and Sirius wasn't sure if he should be grateful or angry about that. Hermione could soothe him after hearing that slimy voice, but he supposed it was better that Harry wasn't around.

Sirius didn't think he'd be able to hide his anger nor his frustration.

Peter Pettigrew.

The rat had begged and cried until Sirius started to throw _reducto_ s all around the place, not even thinking about the damage. He had whined and cried until Lily's voice was louder than his, until James and Remus' voices took his place in his mind. Even then Sirius hadn't been able to stop. He had almost destroyed the drawing room completely but somehow hadn't.

He heard a crack and saw Kreacher popping into existence. Sirius flinched when he saw the House-Elf, thinking his mother would be right around the corner with a punishment of some sort but the senseless fear ebbed out when logic and time caught up with him. The House-Elf didn't look at him, and Sirius didn't hear Kreacher's mutterings for the voices of Lily, Remus and James were too loud. He barely registered the furniture's being repaired.

He still sat down on the comfortable sofa that just was repaired and sagged.

He didn't notice Harry standing there until he heard his voice.

"What the fuck happened here?"

Sirius' lift his head and looked at Harry, standing by the door with a small box in his heads.

"How are you, kiddo?" he asked automatically.

The look that Harry threw at him as a pillow flew before them to return its place made Sirius laugh. He knew he sounded crazy, but he laughed anyway.

 _Stop it! Sirius, you are worrying Harry! Stop th-_

 _Hush, Lils._

"Yes, hush Lily," Sirius said, and Harry jumped, forcing Sirius to look at him. He registered that he had talked aloud, and Harry… Harry looked scared. He looked like the little boy he had seen years ago.

"What did you say?" he asked in a small voice.

"Nothing, Harry. It's nothing," Sirius tried.

"You said Lily," Harry said. "You said, _hush Lily_." Sirius shook his head. Where was the damn firewhiskey? "Are you hearing voices?"

Sirius shook his head again.

"Don't lie to me," Harry hissed and sat next to Sirius. "You are hiding something, I know. You are distracted, you are distant. I know you are trying. I know Hermione helps. But-"

"It's nothing you should worry about," Sirius cut him off.

"I don't care if you think I should worry about or not," Harry hissed. "What? Do you think I'll judge you? Or that I'll lock you up in St. Mungo's or something? Do you think you are the only one that hears voices, or-" The lad sighed and messed his hair with his hand. It hurt seeing a gesture so like James. It hurt hearing Lily exhale with wonder, no wonder thinking the same thing, in his own head. "I spent all my second year hearing voices that turned out to be a damn Basilisk. Ginny, the same year, carried a teenage Voldemort in her head." Sirius couldn't help but flinch at the reminder of what that girl went through. "I had a bloody Horcrux in me that connected me to _him_ Sirius; tell me what the fuck is going on!"

"It's the Veil," Sirius said rushing the words unless he stopped himself. "It's… I don't know if they are real, mate. Since the Veil, I hear voices and, I am learning to live with it."

"Does Hermione know?"

Sirius nodded and Harry mirrored the same action.

"Good." Sirius looked up at Harry, surprised. "What? She knows how to deal with it, what can I say? She took care of me, I know she took care of Ginny, too. She'll do the same for you. She is highly logical, and that helps when nothing makes sense."

Sirius nodded.

"Yeah, she helps," he admitted.

They watched as Kreacher continued to fix the drawing room up.

"So, what happened to this place?" Harry asked waving his hand in the general direction of everything Sirius managed to damage.

"I hear Pettigrew, too."

Harry jumped again and turned to him. He licked his lips.

Neither said anything for a while and then Kreacher, having finished the repairs, disappeared with a crack.

"Have I ever told you how he died?"

* * *

Sirius was glad that Hermione came a bit late that evening for several reasons.

He was glad that he had a chance to talk to Harry, but more so because it gave him some to collect himself after the tale Harry had told him.

" _In the end, he died for me, too,"_ Harry had said. _"Or rather, because of me."_

Sirius couldn't find it in himself to feel bad or forgiving because of that. He didn't think Harry did, either. It was disturbing, in fact. The little flicker of humanity, that little flicker of what Peter had been when he was their friend, _that_ was what Sirius mourned for. Not that he had died, but he had been lost when he was alive. The cheery chubby lad that went dark.

When Hermione had returned Sirius was already in his room, hiding out. He turned to Padfoot even, to hear even better what the other occupants of the townhouse were up to. He heard the sounds of dinner being eaten, he heard Harry tell Hermione that he had finally finished his work and wouldn't be returning to the Law Enforcement again, he heard Hermione talk about her day...

Sirius didn't go out until he knew he was feeling better. Until he knew that he could see Hermione to fulfil his promise to her. _Together._

Carefully starting out this thing all over again: Together.

* * *

"I wish I could read your mind when you are thinking like this."

Hermione turned to Sirius, her eyes big as saucers. He grinned and walked towards her, sitting next to her on the settee that became theirs. He reached into his pockets and took a box of candies. He popped one into his mouth and offered her to take a piece or two.

She carefully peeked inside the box and took one, and put it into her mouth, her hand touching her lips. Sirius stared, not even trying the hide that he did.

They didn't talk. Sirius leaned back and flexed his shoeless feet before himself, and Hermione collected hers under her bum, slippers discarded on the floor, and a book on her lap remaining unread.

The window was open, and soft late summer breeze filled the library, moving her hair around her face.

Sirius didn't know how long they sat there, next to each other, without touching but only an inch apart from each other.

"I was thinking of moving," Hermione said when the sun finally sat outside.

Sirius looked at her. She wasn't looking at him, though. Her eyes were fixed on the wall, watching the painting of a librarian moving around painted bookshelves, unaware of her fixed stare.

"Stay," he said and Hermione's head snapped up to look at him. She looked confused.

They continued to look at each other. She didn't say anything and he didn't avert his eyes.

"Okay," she whispered after a while, and Sirius' heart soared.

This was it. _Okay_ , she had said. _Okay._

He recalled when her lips dropped his name that night, like sugar on a hard liquor, burning him sweetly.

 _Okay._

 _Sirius._

He smiled, and only then she started to laugh.

"Why?" she asked in between her disastrous laughs that made no sense. Tears welled up in her eyes.

Sirius leaned and covered her shoulders with his arm, pulling her towards himself. He placed a kiss on her head, inhaling the scent of her hair and allowed it to excite him.

"You know why."

Hermione nodded and raised her head so to meet his eyes. He welcomed them with his. She didn't hide her tears and knowing that she allowed herself to be out there when with him felt like a victory. He reached and caught a drop with his thumb, wanting to taste it, barely holding himself not to.

"Slowly," she asked of him. It could have been an order, but it sounded like a plea. Why did he enjoy it so much?

"Slowly," he agreed and pushed a hair that it was not really out of place gently with his fingertips. He wanted to put a kiss right under her eye, right on the apple of her cheek, and another right on the top of her nose. He wanted to put a kiss on the bow of her lips, and the meatiest part of her bottom one. He wanted to kiss that freckle right below her ear that he only recalled by memory because more often than not, it was hidden behind her hair. He wanted to kiss where her throat ended and met with her collarbones.

Hermione snuggled him, then. Her arm wrapped around his waist and her face pressed against his chest.

It burned his skin.

Sirius wanted to grab her harder, squeeze her shoulders until there was no part of them not touching -until it hurt. Instead, he kept his arm around her tight, but relaxed. He took deep breaths and did not straighten his posture. He remained right there, within the moment, so not to break it.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with my life, Sirius," Hermione said with a barely heard exhale.

"You are going to go to work, tomorrow," he whispered to her. "I've read your notes, Hermione. And Percy's. You guys are doing great. It's happening. People are listening. You realise that, don't you?"

Sirius waited for her to nod.

"So you are going to go to work, and for that nine hours you are there, you will take a break every one and a half hour, and get a lunch right in the middle of the day. I know you like that café near the ministry. So go there, take Percy with you; I know you enjoy his boring rhetoric about the importance of your job. He is good for you, love, he brings that fire in you that wants to help those children. I'm glad you are working with him."

She sighed contently. "You are right, he does," she said and then giggled. "He bores you to death, though."

Sirius chuckled. "He has no reservations when it comes to business talk," he admitted. Then he reached and rubbed her shoulder softly, soothingly. "Then go back, and finish your day. Take your breaks. Come home.

"I'll make you dinner when you rest and refresh, and then we'll eat together with Harry. I'll tell you a story about my Hogwarts years, and we'll laugh. We'll let Harry ask thousands of little details about Lily and James. As I answer his questions we'll get a little sad sometimes, but I suppose that's okay."

Hermione was looking at him again with serious eyes that warmed his body.

"Then you'll run and hide here," he continued telling her her tomorrow. "Like you do every night, and pick a book that is your guilty pleasure. I'll turn to Padfoot and lay under your feet so you can put your little feet over my fur." He grinned like a dog. "I know you like how it tickles your feet." Hermione laughed and hid her face against his chest again. "And I promise, love, I'll pretend not to notice you are reading the cheesiest romance novel known to mankind."

Hermione snorted at that but didn't lift her head from his chest. "You make it sound so easy."

"I know it isn't," Sirius said. "But, slowly, it will be."

* * *

 **Hello!**

 **This chapter came a bit late, _I know._**

 **Regardless, thank you all who reviewed, followed and favourited this story. You all are amazing. Your support means _everything._**

 **On the other hand, there is something I have to say.**

 **\- serious Synoir mode: enabled -**

 **I had planned never to delete a review but I have done so for this story. I will never allow any review that lays judgment on lifestyles, I will never allow people to bash or use harmful words against people's choices in life. I will not take the risk of a reader of mine seeing their lifestyle has been bad-mouthed with words like "whoring around." Any reviews that have derogatory terms will be _definitely_ deleted. **

**To be simple; do not condemn things when consent is involved. You like to sleep around, do so. You do not like to sleep around, then do not sleep around. But do not call people sluts or prudes for neither. It's their life.**

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 **\- serious Synoir mode: disabled -**

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 **Synoir**


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